


Unicorn Rhapsody

by WritingQuill



Series: (30) Days of Johnlock [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, John hates video games, M/M, Robot Unicorn Attack - Freeform, Smut, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingQuill/pseuds/WritingQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day three: gaming </p><p>Sherlock won't stop playing Robot Unicorn Attack, so John finds a creative way to distract him. </p><p>(NSFW)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unicorn Rhapsody

**Author's Note:**

> Look! I wrote porn again! It wasn't supposed to be porn, but it got a bit out of hand. Oh, well. Robot Unicorn Attack is an awesome Adult Swim game (you can play online, on the iPod or iPad) which it's incredibly addictive. Even to Sherlock Holmes, hehe.

At that moment, on a cloudy Tuesday, 3:57 in the afternoon, John Watson regretted two things. 

1) Having allowed Sherlock to get him to invest in an iPad together 

and

2) Allowing Harry to download “this really great game, you have to play it, Johnny, it’s brilliant!”, aka Robot Unicorn Attack 

On a cloudy Tuesday at 3.57 in the afternoon, John came out of the shower wrapped in his warm bath robe, feeling relaxed, when he heard it. 

_When it’s cold outside, am I here in vain?_

For the what seemed like the millionth time since Harry had downloaded that game onto their iPad a week ago, John wanted to throw the thing away, or at least keep as far from Sherlock as possible, because, since Harry had downloaded that game onto their iPad a week ago, Sherlock hadn’t stopped playing. There were no cases, and he was bored, but John was beginning to feel nostalgic about the times when his partner would sulk and shoot things — he couldn’t stand to listen to that song anymore! 

‘Sherlock, if you’re going to keep playing that bloody game, could you at least keep it on silent or something?’ John pleaded. 

‘I need the sound, John. That’s how you know the stars are coming!’ Sherlock said, eyes glued to the screen as he followed his violet-coloured robotic unicorn through the seemingly endless path. Every so often, he would groan in frustration — when the unicorn hit something and he lost a life —, or exclaim in annoyance — when he lost the game and had to re-start. Every time John thought it would be the last, but then Sherlock just touched the screen once more and started playing again. 

*

By Friday, John had made a tactical decision. In order to get Sherlock to stop playing that thing, he was going to have to pull out the big guns. Namely himself. Naked. In bed. That should work. 

When John arrived from the surgery that afternoon, he could heart it again — _and live in harmony, harmony, oh love_ — but by that point, he could hear that bloody song in his dreams. It was so incredibly annoying, that song. It was annoying when it came out in the 90s, and it was still annoying now, and John wanted to hunt how Erasure and kick their bony arses into the next century. 

Sherlock was lying on his back on the sofa, holding the iPad over his head, look of pure focus as his eyes moved fast to watch out for any obstacles, stars or fairies. His thumbs pressed the corners of the screen in order to make the unicorn jump, double jump or some sort of rainbow attack thing that got both his partner and his sister incredibly annoyed at times. 

‘Is it warm in here?’ John asked. And he knew it sounded like a bad line from an even worse porno, but if sex helped him stop listening to _Always_ non-stop, then it didn’t matter if it sounded like a mediocre gay entertainment film. 

A loud sigh and a growl, and Sherlock looked up at John, who was removing his jumper. ‘Sorry?’ 

‘I asked if it was warm in here,’ John repeated, toeing off his shoes and removing his socks. Sherlock shrugged. 

’Maybe the heating is too high.’ 

John sighed inwardly and tried for a more aggressive approach. ‘No, I don't think it’s the heater.’ He approached Sherlock on the sofa and perched himself on the arm by Sherlock’s foot. John then began stroking Sherlock’s right foot, lightly massaging it the way he knew his partner loved. He heard Sherlock gulp slightly, iPad forgotten in order to observe John’s ministrations from afar. John slid his hand up Sherlock’s calf and squeezed. Sherlock closed his eyes. 

‘How about you stop playing that game, and you and I play a game of our own?’ John asked suggestively, moving closer to Sherlock, hand still sliding across his leg. Sherlock locked the device and placed it on the coffee table without a second thought. He sat up on the sofa and John straddled his hips. 

‘W-what kind of game?’ Sherlock asked as John slid his hands over his chest, shoulders and biceps. John shot him a smirk. 

‘How about “how long does it take for me to make you come without touching your cock”?’ John suggested, raising a suggestive eyebrow, earning a delicious whimper from Sherlock. He took that as a yes and recommenced is ministrations, grabbing onto those dark curls and pressing their mouths together in a heated frenzy. It was almost funny how easy it had been to get Sherlock to stop playing that stupid game, and, frankly, John regretted not having done it sooner. 

Sherlock moaned into his mouth as John bit that plump bottom lip of his then ran a teasing tongue through his cupid’s bow. One of his hands was making its way across Sherlock’s neck and back, making Sherlock shiver ever-so-slightly. John could already feel Sherlock growing harder and this only made him more eager to keep going. 

Quickly, John got rid of T-shirts with some help from Sherlock when his head got stuck. Then came the trousers and pyjama bottoms, and finally John removed Sherlock’s pants, leaving his own on since they were going to focus only on Sherlock at the moment. 

He lay Sherlock back on the sofa and began kissing that long, pale neck, nibbling slightly at the freckles and spots there. Sherlock squirmed and moaned under him, since it was so rare that they would be entirely focused on him (or John — they were usually fair when it came to sex) and it seemed like his body was really enjoying it.

‘John…’ Sherlock moaned. ‘D-don’t stop…’ he said as John left a love bit at Sherlock’s clavicle then moved to kiss his chest. His nipples had already hardened and John suckled on them eagerly, making Sherlock pant with desire and lust. They were both slick with sweat by that point, and Sherlock’s erection looked furious down there, clearly resenting being left out. But it was not the game, and John wanted so very much to win. 

A few minutes later found John gently yet ravenously kissing Sherlock’s thights, those long ridiculously pale and strong muscles, the soft lines and the small scars. He licked his way up teasingly, then down again, placing open-mouthed and somewhat sloppy kisses on the soft skin at the back of the knee. He did that with each leg and continued to pay attention to Sherlock’s angry-looking, leaking hardness. 

‘John…’ 

‘Yes,’ John said, massaging Sherlock’s left thigh. Sherlock moaned and bit his bottom lip. 

‘You have to… You… F—‘ John was proud of himself whenever he managed to make Sherlock speechless just by touching him. It was like finding a switch button on a toy that never stopped. 

‘Fuck you?’ he suggested and Sherlock nodded animatedly. John smiled and decided to oblige him. He loved doing that with Sherlock, being completely surrounded by Sherlock, feel him come undone under his fingertips. 

He moved to get the lubricant and remove his own pants, then got Sherlock prepared — pointedly not touching his penis, only the surrounding areas — and pushed himself in. Both men gasped and time stood still for a few seconds. Then John began to thrust slightly and Sherlock moved along with him, panting and moaning and groaning with each thrust. 

A droplet of sweat fell from John’s forehead onto Sherlock’s chest, and John soon moved to lick it, earning another moan from his writhing partner. 

‘John..! John..!’ Sherlock sobbed, and John raised his head to place sloppy kissed on Sherlock’s neck again. Sherlock had none of it, he used the hand that wasn’t currently busy with John’s buttocks and pulled John’s head closer, pressing their mouths into the sloppiest, wettest, most dirtiest kiss ever. There were teeth and tongue and noses clashing and a lot of biting and it was unsynchronised — absolutely fucking glorious. 

Sherlock’s erection was still untouched and John could feel him tighter as his body prepared to climax, so the thrusts grew faster and faster, until, with a cry, both men came in unison, Sherlock all over his own chest. 

They panted and leaned against each other for a few moments, catching their breaths. Then John pulled out and reached for one of their T-shirts — to spent to actually see which one — in order to clean them up a bit. Tossing the shirt away, he cuddled up against Sherlock, who pulled a quilt over them, and sighed contentedly. 

‘That was brilliant,’ he commented. Sherlock chuckled and nodded. 

‘Indeed,’ he agreed. ‘If playing that gave is going to make you react this way, maybe I won’t stop.’ 

‘The cheek!’ John accused, mock-outrageously. He patted Sherlock’s chest and placed a chaste kiss at the crook of his neck. ‘We’ll get you headphones.’ 

Their giggles lulled them both to sleep. 

Sherlock didn’t stop playing Robot Unicorn Attack, and they never really did get those headphones. But John couldn’t bring himself to mind so much anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you've enjoyed it :)


End file.
